


Black Hole

by nigellecter



Series: Encounter of Two Hearts [3]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Drowning, Hypothermia, M/M, Vulnerable Nigel, inquisitorial Adam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5263484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nigellecter/pseuds/nigellecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aftermath of the motorcycle accident.<br/>Immediately follows 'Event Horizon.'<br/>Unedited, unbeta'ed. Mistakes are all my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Hole

Swiftly, the fourth hundred chest compressions follow as Adam watches Nigel's broad chest sink against his hands and expand and rise. By this time, Adam is utterly enervated, the sweat dripping from his curls and forehead. Nigel’s face lax even more as the man begins to shudder with cold, spewing water and bit of blood from the tear inside his mouth. Then the older man’s body lurches as he violently coughs, water spatting out as his head thrashes. At the cold creeping up his entire body, Nigel’s body curls into a fetal position almost instinctively, trying to get himself warm. Adam’s face furrows as he lifts Nigel’s head, letting the water drain out of him as he inches closer to the other.

 

_I almost fucking died, again and yet, I continue to live._

 

The pitch-blackness in Nigel’s view haloes out to become grayer and grayer, until the blinding light unobstructed against his wide-blown hazel irises assaults them. _I am not fucking dead._ After all those incidents, including his impulsive attempt to kill himself disguised as a heavy traffic accident, bouts of powerballing and almost overdosing on his choice of stimulant and depressant, cocaine and morphine and the deep gash that had rendered him immobile for long months alone on his bed, forced to surrender his hedonistic life to remain in solitude, escaping death by slim margins, _I fucking thought this how I fucking go._ But it had been worse before, his favorite bike had become a mere scrap metal in the junkyard when it had been plucked off from the bottom of the river and the excess drug had to flush out of his system. His prominent gash, he still had been suffering from infections and complications.

 

Adam’s own breathing quickens and his clammy body doesn’t really help to get the older man’s body warm, but it is at least what he can try. His own body trembling as they wait for the ambulance to come, a hand presses against the drenched shirt and feels the hard muscles underneath. Desperately beating to keep the fire inside the core burning. The wind sweeping between them taking the thin layer of body warmth away as more heat drains from them, all they can do for the moment is to rely on their pressed bodies generating heat.

 

Nigel’s veins constricting as his body fights to keep the vital organs to pump blood, his faint heartbeat slowly begins to lift his chest as more water dribbles from his lips, which had turned color due to the cold temperature of the water, a purple tint gracing the outline of his sensuous lips. A slight tremor rattling his entire body as his dripping hair covers the side of his face in a fan, his shoulder slightly lurches as the gurgling becomes louder. Adam’s arm winds across the arched back of the taller man,

 

The heavily shut lashes on his pallid visage flutters as he escapes from the darkest time, recovering his consciousness as his head begins to spin. Behind the closed eyes, he feels the arctic coldness creep in, his cumbersome legs unconsciously curling to keep the warmth contained as his head recoils backward and forward, jets of water trickling down to the rough surface as the coughing fit continues.

 

“I feel like a fucking drowned rat.” Nigel’s voice is merely reduced into a whisper as his weak fingers pull at the hem of Adam’s shirt, pressing himself closer to the younger man. Clutching even for the little warmth emitting from Adam, Nigel’s breathing flutters as the veins on his neck constricts, the blood flow had slowed down drastically. As the consciousness returns, Nigel’s head begins to reverberate throbbing pain from his temple, his liquid hazel orbs barely open to regard the other man.

 

“You’ll be okay, although I think you have a concussion.” Hugging the man now and feeling a bit of warm water trail down the length of his back, Adam strokes the back of Nigel’s drenched hair, mingled with blood and dirt from the rock. The taller and broader man now feels as if he had been reduced into a battered and broken rag doll, waiting to be put together by his hands.

 

Letting the water and other fluid spill over the man’s usually tanned skin, now showing a pallid pallor as Adam pecks a chaste kiss on the other’s neck, thankful that the man is alive. The frigid wind sweeps through their pressed bodies and at least where they are touching remains warm.

 

For both of them, hypothermia is at risk as the temperature significantly drops. Adam’s own hand begins to lose its strength and his hands clutch around Nigel’s shirt collar, shaking the older man as more blood trickles and wets the shattered chrome plated body of the motorcycle and rock underneath. From the stature of Nigel’s body and the look on his face, he is fading quickly. Adam feels responsible to keep him more or less alert at least until the paramedics make to the shore. Then he remembers he has the means to call the ambulance. _Oh, in the motorcycle. His cell phone!!_

 

Adam scurries a step towards the crushed back, not letting go of Nigel with clutch of his fingers. The compartment door remains thankfully locked, preventing it from whatever is inside to remain somewhat unperturbed. Crossing his fingers that his cell isn’t soaked wet, he throws the cover off as he retrieves his cell from inside the leather jacket pocket. Draping the jacket over Nigel’s shivering body, he can sense the man is trying his best not to, but the body is a marvelous thing, trying to warm the core temperature up by draining blood away from the extremities.

 

“I-I’m okay now, you must be fucking soaked to the bone. C’mere.”

 

Nigel’s head begins to spin as an acute prickling pain shoots through the side of his head. His lips parted, his exhales crystallize as a frantic series of puffing air fills the air. The view of the cliff and the dark murky water reduces into smears of colors, rippling and blurring underneath him as he feels the soft ripple tap against the tip of his heavy boots. His limbs feeling like something that is outside of his control, hands had dropped to his lap in a listless attitude, body feeling lethargic as his face takes on increasing disconsolate as he feels as if he's fading, just like a vase full of flowers frostbitten outside the snow. No matter how much he tries to move and live, his usual warm body emits heat from the core, but it is rapidly snatched away from the gush of fall wind. 

 

And inside the back of the compartment, carefully tucked inside, Adam sees a bouquet of red roses. Nigel had meant to give it to him when they watch the moon again, but the accident deterred the romantic plan. _Oh, you sweet romantic._

 

The cell's power had been turned off, as he didn’t want to be bothered by it when he was on a date with Nigel, it turns on with a relatively substantial amount of battery level. He doesn’t exactly know the location, he only knows that they kissed and he tried to kiss in order to save the taller man. Doing his best to remember any distinctive characteristic of the place as their location, he lays against Nigel's hard body with the flower tucked into his chest. Hanging up and putting the phone next to him, he does the absolutely bravest and the most impulsive thing he has ever done in his whole life.

 

He wants Nigel to forget pain and remain conscious at least until the ambulance comes. So he carefully locks his lips against the taller man's, his hand looping around the other's thick neck and lifting him up to sit, to make him lean against the broken seat of the bike. The air around them perfumes with the sweet smell of roses, growing ever strong as the kiss continues. Under the quickened breaths, the fragrance makes them to almost forget the situation they're in, floating on the breeze. 

 

Hearing the ambulance’s siren ringing in the distance and as the gurney gets lowered, Adam reluctantly lets go of the older man when he goes limp as soon as the paramedics get him secured to be lifted up first, as he is more in a grave condition.

 

The metal shard poking through his right side and his forehead, lodged in there good and busted head still slowly leaking blood. Nigel doesn’t need blood transfusion, but he’d at least have a cracked skull. Adam hadn’t noticed his own head was bleeding, but the paramedics dismiss him after tending to his cuts and gashes, mainly on his right side and a big one on his cheek that radiates dull throbbing pain whenever he moves his lips. Adam stays behind, his hands clasped in front of him, rubbing his palms as he inhales the scent of alcohol wipes still lingering across his arms.  

 

“Is it okay if I ride with you, I need to get to the hospital.” Feeling the panic set in his core as Adam trembles, not from the cold, but from the fear Nigel won’t be waking up for good. He clutches the blanket given to him and as he is permitted, sits next to one of the medical personnel in the back of the ambulance.

 

Removing the foreign object from Nigel’s body would hasten the bleeding, so they leave it intact and concentrates on keeping him warm first. Obviously, he is not completely unconscious as his eyes remain closed, but the eyeballs behind his heavily closed eyelids waver and his thick lashes flutter as the paramedics continue to tend to his external injuries, patching him up and placing thermal hot pads under his armpits and abdomen.

 

A prickling and dull throbbing pain radiating slowly and dissipating through his whole body, Nigel’s vision fades slowly as his eyes open for the briefest moment, regarding Adam before he completely slips into unconsciousness. An oxygen mask covers more than half of his face as he is ministered local anesthetics, removing the metal shards and taking off his wet clothes to wrap him under layers of dry blankets. More thermal hot pads under his neck. The paramedics confirm that whatever Adam had been doing, it prevented Nigel from entering the dangerous phase of going into the shock. Although prolonged exposure had risked more imminent dangers, such as the tremor halting, the body deceiving and confusing itself to think that it's okay to lose pieces of clothing and make the situation worse.

 

Any kind of high-risk behavior had been prevented. Adam thanks himself for not going into one of his panic attacks and Nigel for holding onto his consciousness. Apparently, he had been a tough cookie, just like his outwardly appearance proved.   

 

“He-he’ll be okay? Oh god….” Hiding behind his hands as his elbows dip into his knees, Adam’s knees brush against Nigel’s limp hand that slides off from the edge of the gurney.

 

“He has a depressed skull fracture, which means he’ll be admitted to surgery right away to lift the bones off the brain. We’d have to monitor him because there is a high risk of building intracranial pressure, but we’d have to confirm how severe his injury is with x-ray.” The drive to the hospital is swift, as the traffic had been cleared up during the late rush hours.

 

After few hours of surgery to take the inward fragmented bones out and stapling the skull together with metal plates, Nigel gets out of surgery still under the anesthesia, while Adam changes into the gown given by the nurse and tends to his own wounds, keeping himself warm by wrapping in layers of blankets.

 

Adam sleeps on and off, falling in a fitful sleep inside hospital waiting room with a panicked expression. Still speechless and shocked that he’d risk his own life to absorb some of the damage he was supposed to take. The recurring image of Nigel covered over with white fabric and his hand limply hanging off of the edge of the gurney plays in his head over and over again. The ground still soaked with various stages of sanguine seeped through the pavement and dirt, he can even see some brain matter splattered on the bike and the fire still burns through the bike as it had exploded in the distance. The motorcycle had skidded against the road and thankfully, he was unscathed and Nigel didn’t suffer any burns on his body, but the severe brain trauma and the force sending Nigel’s brain to build the pressure inside, his death had been almost instantaneous, that’s what Adam hears repeatedly as the shades of crimson and coppery and rusty scent overwhelms the sensation. Completely in trance-like state as his body tenses up, his usual bright blue hues faltering its lightness and vividness.

 

The nurse rouses Adam up and tells him that Nigel is still out, but the surgery went well and they will monitor at least for two weeks, in concurrence with his other physical injuries, which will heal well without too much scarring. The monitor beeps as Nigel’s face is still covered with the oxygen mask, his head wrapped all over and the scent of alcohol wipe and sterilized gauze covers some of the deeper gashes, covered over with the bandages.

 

He had already narrowly escaped death, living his self-destructive life since adolescent years. No one would ever dare to imagine Nigel, who had sun-kissed, broad shoulders with narrow hips and waist, would be the one that had once been pale, lithe, longhaired and androgynous young man who had made a living by fucking clients. He had his juvenile delinquent phase, when he had been more or so reckless and didn’t care anything else in the world. Having a high-risk and high earning job had its perks and downsides. Flaunting his assets and in female clothes, getting by middle-aged perverts who got on by ripping his dress and garter belts. It was a secret phase not many knew about. Merely lasting about a year due to his rapid growth, turning how he looks right now in out of the blue. Broader, tanner and much taller. All the alabaster skin tinted olive, the masculinity exuding from his all grown-up body, the predator hidden beneath his slight frailty after recuperating from the succession of his injuries.

 

So there was the time when a big feline cat had been the white, pristine yet cunning as a fox white Persian cat. Quick to his feet, seductive and charming. The most skilled delinquent in his neighborhood who had upped from mere pilfering and stealing from boutique stores and middle aged women. Now targeting the men around the same age, he had garnered more wads of money than most of his peers could. All he had been good for. Uneducated, but it didn’t mean Nigel lacked any articulation or elaboration with words. As Adam’s autistic spectrum didn’t mean the man was childish or didn’t know about anything else about the world.

 

“You stupid scary man, you saved me, I could’ve ended up laying where you are and you have traded the space with me.” Adam still recalls Nigel’s dark and gloomy silhouette sauntering towards him from his bike. Even the bike had looked like an embodiment of Nigel. Streamlined and sleek body, a fierce and predatory looking front with sharp lines and angular features.  

 

A hand reaching for Nigel’s veiny and tanned hand, his own soft fingertips feel like a kid’s hand gliding across the hard skin. Littered with scars, although almost invisible, he could see that the rough hands had been into countless fights. The bouts of uncontrollable anger coming out of that slender body packed with toned muscles. With only the IV drip dripping to the tube and Nigel’s deep and slow breathing filling the hospital ward, Adam begins to slip off to sleep. Having been tense with worriness creeping over him, all the adrenaline that had kept him up finally drains out.

 

The morning rolls around as quick as the sky paints with celestial bodies during the night. Now all of those have disappeared into the horizon as the sun creeps up, the unyielding light breaks into the wide windows as Nigel slowly wakes up. The first thing he registers is the oxygen mask covering more than half of his face. Now able to breath on his own, he rips off the device and sees Adam slouched uncomfortably against the hospital bed. Pressing the button for the nurse and feeling still damp curls against his fingertips, Nigel asks for an extra hospital bed that could be pulled beside his, so Adam can sleep more comfortably.

 

A long-drawn sigh lifting his chest, his lips arch lopsidedly in a minute smirk, the first genuine one in months.

 

 


End file.
